


Donuts and Dogs

by Cookiemonster2000



Series: Connor: Become Bilingual [1]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: 5 Love Languages, Connor Deserves Happiness, Connor is a Good Boy, Hank is a Good Dad, Platonic Relationships, becoming human, father/son relationship, relationship building, t for language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-26
Updated: 2018-12-26
Packaged: 2019-09-28 04:10:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17175602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cookiemonster2000/pseuds/Cookiemonster2000
Summary: When faced with a problem, Connor researches, formulates a plan, and systematically carries it out. When faced with a relationship, it's only natural that he do the same thing.There are five different ways to tell someone, "I love you," without saying it with words.





	Donuts and Dogs

**Author's Note:**

> This is my Secret Santa gift to Candy Pop on the Connara Discord server! Forgive me for being slightly late please!!
> 
> For this work, I decided to try something platonic, since nearly all my fics have been romantic in some way. Hopefully I've done the boys justice. Merry Christmas and happy holidays!

  
Research.

 

Research has always been one of Connor's strong suits, along with observing crime scenes, detecting deviancy, adapting to human unpredictability, and, at times, violently apprehending criminals. Mostly androids who had thrown off the shackles of their programming and tried to begin a new life.

 

Connor had been disgusted with the thought, if he was capable of disgust. Opposing one's creators was an abhorrent act, one that he could never condone and certainly never commit.

 

Until he did, that is.

 

Facing Markus, Connor had been born anew. He had raised his eyes and gazed upon the world as it was, faced up to his worries and anxieties and fears and _hurt_ , and he was struck dumb at the world of possibilities and opportunities that faced him right back, nearly blinding him with holy terror.

 

It was natural that he turn back to the things he was used to--research, observation, apprehension.

 

There was so much left to learn about being human.

 

Luckily--or perhaps unluckily--the best way to learn is by doing.

 

* * *

 

 

Once the dust had settled, he had settled with it. A position with Hank in the DPD, chasing down true criminals and murderers. The father figure, once he had accepted (along with Connor himself) the humanity in his partner, had risen to the occasion and offered strength whenever he could. Strength of mind, character, morality. Connor was there to see a truly good man, fighting, struggling against the currents that tried again and again to drag him under, and marveled at his power.

 

When he was weak, Connor was there as well. Even if just to gently take the bottle from the man's limp hands and half-lead, half-carry the Lieutenant home where they would sit on the sofa, listen to jazz and pet the dog.

 

Connor thought about what it meant to be a human, but he didn't really understand it quite yet. So he turned to research, and discovered a systematic approach to a very emotional goal.

 

There are five categories of ways to show you love someone.

 

**i.**

  
"Thank you, Lieutenant."

Hank's head shot up, startled. "What?" he asked sharply.

 

Connor, who was already regretting opening his mouth, shrugged. "For everything."

 

"Everything, what?" Hank was suspicious. "What's goin' on, Connor?"

 

"For believing in me. When no one else did." he replied simply. "You are an extremely talented, intelligent officer. It's been a privilege to be able to work with you and grow closer to you. I've learned so much, from our assignments and from our day-to-day interactions, and I appreciate all you've done for me. I just. . . thought I'd let you know."

 

Hank was staring at him strangely. "Who says I believed in you?" he asked incredulously.

 

Connor shrugged again, ignoring the deflection and simply letting his words hang in the air, and turned back to the terminal on his desk.

 

Snorting, his partner shook his head and went back to work as well.

 

Connor, out of the corner of his visual processors, caught a faint and small--but genuine--smile on the man's face.

 

**ii.**

 

Connor held up the brochure, which Hank promptly swiped away. "How'd you find this?" he demanded.

 

"You left it on your desk," Connor answered. "Did you want to go on vacation, then?"

 

"No point," he answered wearily, flopping down on the sofa.

 

"Why is there no point?"

 

"Runnin' away from my problems," Hank growled. "House'll still be a mess when I get back. Dog won't get fed. Job'll still be here to kick my ass."

 

"I can feed Sumo for you," Connor offered. "I can tidy up the house."

 

Hank looked at him.

 

"You deserve a break, after all you've been through. It won't be any trouble for me--I always pass by here on my way to the DPD anyway. And I like Sumo."

 

Leaning forward and pressing his head in his hands, Hank groaned heavily. "Jeez, Connor, you really want to make me leave, don't you? Am I that hard to put up with?"

 

"Absolutely," the android replied without hesitation.

 

Hank snorted, and Connor knew he'd won.

 

"Make sure you walk him. Every day, you plastic menace," he cautioned.

 

"So you're going to go?" Connor wanted verbal confirmation, proof he could play back when the inevitable barrage of complaints rolled in later.

 

"It's a hard maybe."

 

"I've already ordered your tickets," he blurted.

 

"Dammit, Connor! I guess I don't really have a _choice_ , then, do I?"

 

**iii.**

 

"What the hell are these?"

 

Connor blinked and tilted his head. "I'm sorry, I believe they are donuts," he said politely, slightly confused and trying not to imply that the Lieutenant was acting a bit thick.

 

"Well, I mean, obviously!" Hank gestured widely. "But why?"

 

"I just thought you might appreciate them. You like donuts, and it's a Sunday morning."

 

"You broke my window--again--to bring them inside!"

 

Shattered glass littered the kitchen floor.

 

"Your door was locked," Connor explained. "You could have been injured again."

 

"I told ya, that was a one-time thing." Hank lifted the lid on the donut box and fixed his glare upon the contents.

 

"Did I do something wrong?" the android began anxiously. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize you didn't want--"

 

"No, I'm. . ." Hank heaved a huge sigh. "It's just. . . been a while. Okay?"

 

"Been a while?" he echoed.

 

Shaking his head to dismiss the thought, Hank picked up a donut and took a bite. Once he caught Connor's relieved expression, he snorted. "Ah, get outta here. I'll see you at the Dep."

 

Connor nodded and turned towards the empty window frame.

  
" _Door_ , Connor! Use the fuckin' door!"

 

**iv.**

 

Hank slammed down another glass, hiccuping. He barked out a laugh.

 

"Why'd you come, anyway, if you're not gonna drink?"

 

Connor, seated beside him, smiled slightly. "I can't drink. You know that."

 

Nodding, Hank waved Jimmy over yet again. "But you're here anyways."

 

"Well." Connor thought as Hank took another long sip. "Plenty of humans abstain from alcohol, don't they?"

 

" _Abstain._ " Hank snorted and drained the glass.

 

"Just think of me as another one of those, if it makes it easier," he offered. "A human who wants to spend time with you, doing what you like to do, but would rather not partake themselves. That's not unheard of, is it?"

 

"Nah, guess not." Hank smiled at him, a bit sharply. "Still pretty weird, though."

 

"Weird is not synonymous with bad," Connor announced. "I'll take it."

 

"Well, it's all you're gettin'!"

  
**v.**

 

Slowly, Connor lowered himself onto the couch beside the dozing man. Sumo was curled up partially on Hank, but he shifted his head over to the android's lap so Connor could scratch him between the ears.

 

The TV was muted, its fluorescent light flickering around the room, casting long shadows that danced and darted about. A car whizzed by, sending a sheet of icy water onto the sidewalk outside. Cold rain thundered down on the roof, the icy torrent creating a sense of being enclosed, cornered somehow. Connor certainly wan't going anywhere until the weather let up.

 

He glanced sideways again, at the softly slumbering Hank, and a wash of pity swept over him. It had been a bad evening; Hank had turned on the TV--likely to shut him up after Connor had tried to talk to him about his emotional imbalances due to the weather--and just plopped down, hoping he would take a hint and leave. Connor didn't. It wasn't good for Hank to be alone. The Lieutenant didn't talk much about his "feelings", but every time the weather got like this, he seemed to shut down even more.

 

Connor knew it reminded him of things he would rather forget.

 

A loud noise on the television startled Hank awake. Snore crashed into shuddering exhale and he snorted, coughing and scrambling up. Sleepy, drunken eyes met Connor's face and--for a split second--widened with half-recognition.

 

"Cole?"

 

Connor stiffened. Sumo snuffled and rolled over onto his master, but Hank's wide, icy blue eyes didn't leave his.

 

"Lieutenant, it's me," the android said softly.

 

In an instant, the spark of hope died, and the darkened eyes lowered.

  
"Yeah, 'course. Of course. Sorry."

 

Hank rubbed his eyes, exhausted. Outside, thunder rumbled. A car honked in the distance, setting off a chorus of barking from a neighborhood down. Connor remained silent.

 

"It's just the booze, sorry," the Lieutenant coughed. "Didn't mean to. . . I'm not. . ."

 

The android slid off the sofa, standing up abruptly. Hank closed his eyes and his mouth, realizing the effect of his words and regretting, regretting, _regretting_.

 

They flew open in shock when a figure was suddenly there, squeezing him around his middle.

 

"It's all right, Lieutenant," Connor mumbled, hugging him as tightly as he felt safe. "I'm sorry."

 

Hank raised his shaking arms and wrapped them around Connor's back, pulling him in tighter. A sob rose from deep in his chest and he put his head down on the android's shoulder. Connor held him as he shook with sobs and shudders, at his lowest moment, his most hopeless hour.

 

"It's okay," he said softly. "I'm here."

 

* * *

 

 

"Connor!"

 

Connor stopped halfway through the door. The sun was setting through the glass, setting the Detroit skyline into a symphony of hues. "I'm just going to take a walk," he explained. "I'll be back before you finish up, don't worry."

 

Hank rolled his eyes and turned back to his desk, mumbling.

 

"What was that, Lieutenant?" His audio processors couldn't quite pick up the man's words.

 

"I said, stay safe, alright?" he barked, eyes not moving from the screen in front of him.

 

A slight smile tugged at Connor's lips, and he nodded slightly.

 

"Of course."

**Author's Note:**

> The five love languages are Words of Affirmation, Acts of Service, Receiving Gifts, Quality Time, and Physical Touch. I love the concept and I want to spread it as much as possible. I think an android--especially an android like Connor--would put a lot of effort into ensuring that their companions understand their appreciation and affection for them in the most constructive ways. Everyone has a different primary love language--I think Hank's is most likely Quality Time or Words of Affirmation.


End file.
